Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Cell, ABO Facility
Finally, my pheromones settle, as I lie in the nest with a newly bonded Omega sprawled on my chest.
Bird is warm, cookie scented, and the vibrations of his purr echo through me like I can feel them in my heart.
This is the fucking life.
If only I had a glass of whiskey clutched in my free hand and my favorite gun at my hip, this would be my ideal way to wake up every morning of my life.
I yank Bird by the hair, baring his neck. I lazily lick over my bond bite.
I grin.
It fits me because it’s a savage bite.
Bird flushes and squirms like I’m licking his cock. “Mercy, Ro. You’re making me hard again, and my poor cock is so raw that it may fall off if I come again. You’ve ridden me hard for twenty-four hours and put me back wet.”
“Aren’t you ready for another round?”
He groans. “Is that the quality of your mercy?”
“Who says that I have any?”
I drag Bird higher, pulling him to lie on top of me; our legs entwine.
When I trap his cock between my thighs, he gasps. “Are you trying to lock me again? Bonding with you was fucking life-changing. But give a guy a chance to recover.”
“Life-changing?”
Bird’s gaze becomes vulnerable. “Wasn’t it for you?”
He has no idea how much.
When I sank my fangs into his throat, our bond snapped into place.
Suddenly, I was able to feel his emotions.
It had been an unsettling shock.
Isolated for so much of my life, I hadn’t been ready for it. I’ve kept most people at arm’s length because most hurt me, were afraid of me, or were my next targets.
This level of connection undid me.
Mars would write about the way that once you bond, you can sense your pack’s emotions and needs.
More fairytale bullshit, I thought.
Damn, was I wrong.
Unexpectedly, during the ferocity of my bite, I realized that I was not only feeling my own primal possessiveness surging through me, but I was also sensing Bird’s intense joy
I shivered, as my Omega’s happiness broke like the sun’s rays through my darkness.
Bird is inside me all the time.
He is my pack.
I can’t run from that.
Now, I can feel Bird’s fluttering heartbeat fast against my slow one. “How could it be anything but life-changing, when your light is inside me? How can I pretend to be some cool black cat anymore? I’ve got the spirit of a golden retriever bouncing around inside my head.”
Bird chuckles. “Well, you feel like a dagger — sharp and cold. Except, you’re not lodged in my ribs but hang over my heart. It’s like knowing you’re always there ready to slash the throats of anyone who hurts me. That should scare me, but it doesn’t.”
I puff out my chest in pride.
I feel like a dagger…?
I’ll take that.
“The emblem for the Adonis pack is a wild boar,” I say.
“I imagine that Fiorella, our Chief Alpha feels like one to my dad. She enjoys brutal violence, goring those who are weaker than her. I’m more about cool calculation when I take down those who deserve it because they oppress the weak.
A dagger, gun, or pheromones are merely weapons.
I’m the one who is dangerous because I wield them for my vengeance. ”
Bird rolls off me but grips my hand.
He turns his head, until our noses are touching. “Revenge again, huh? Just typical post bond pillow talk.”
Isn’t it?
I search my memory for the scenes in Mars’ romance books.
Does Bird want me to praise him? Promise to cherish and treasure him?
Should I talk about the four…no, six kids…that he’ll raise for me behind the white picket fence?
What is a picket fence, anyway?
I wrinkle my nose. “Do you want typical anything?”
To my relief, Bird’s eyes glitter with amusement. “Nope, I’ve tried that. Hated it. So, revenge talk it is, rather than whispered sweet nothings.”
“Is telling you that your cock is the prettiest I’ve ever ruined sweet enough, Little Bird?” I murmur.
Bird’s cheeks flush. “More like filthy, rather than sweet. But keep going.”
Instead, I sit up, glancing around at the nest that we also ruined over the last day of our heat and rut.
“Hey,” Bird protests, making grabby hands at me, “where are you going? Omega with needs here.”
“Haven’t I been meeting them for the last twenty-four hours? I’m doing housekeeping. You should be grateful. My version is usually paying the hotel bill.”
I drag the ruined blanket away. It’s been ripped to shreds by my rut.
I was enthusiastic. But then, so was Bird.
He’s a little wild thing.
At least I know that he can keep up with me.
Luckily, somehow our clothes have survived the last twenty-four hours.
Bird scrunches his nose in disappointment at the dismantling of his nest but doesn’t say anything.
Instead, he pushes himself up as well. He picks up my pants, taking a deep, final sniff of their scent, before laughing and hurling them at me.
I catch them before they can hit me in the face. “Bad luck. I have good reflexes.”
“I’ll have my revenge.”
I bare my canines.
I like this game. I’ve never played with anyone like this, even when I was kid.
But Bird still won’t win.
“Bring it on,” I challenge.
“You won’t know what’s hit you. But it will be in your face.”
“Are you sure that you’re not talking about yourself?” I reply, airily.
Then I grab Bird’s pants with the speed of both an assassin and magician and hurl them at him.
They hit him squarely in the face.
Bird’s dazed look is priceless when the pants slide into his lap.
“Point to me,” I announce.
“Stealth attack.” Bird wags his finger at me, pulling on his pants. Then he dives and kisses me, taking me by surprise. “I can do those too.”
My expression gentles, as I stroke his cheek. “I wish that I had a bonding gift for you. Aren’t I meant to present you with one? My brother writes these romance books, and his heroes are always thinking up soppy things to give like some special heirloom their dying mom left them.”
“Do you have a dying mom?”
I shake my head.
“A special heirloom?”
I shake my head again.
He shrugs. “Then you’re my gift.”
“Pfft, you’re mine.”
“A gift exchange. I like it.” Bird pulls on his top, and I regret that I can no longer see his gorgeous skin.
I follow his example, sliding on my top. We reach to button up each other’s shirts like that is an exchange too.
It is surprisingly intimate.
I had to learn to do up my own clothes, well, for as long as I can remember.
I didn’t have parents to help me with mine, in the way that I remember Nico buttoning Mars’ shirts, or Fiorella fussing with the fastenings on Gianna’s dresses when they were both kids.
“So, is your brother an author?” Bird asks. “Would I have read anything by him?”
“Not unless you’re a hacker. He’s a secret writer. Our Chief Alpha would kill him for publishing romances. She’d believe that it shamed our pack.”
Bird falls silent for a moment.
He finishes buttoning up my shirt, before he smooths it down. “Then I hope that his voice is freed too.”
My breath catches. My chest feels tight.
Suddenly, thinking of Mars reminds me of how he helped me feel free unlike anyone else in my pack.
I scoot closer to Bird. Our knees touch.
“My brother called my Omega side Switch,” I explain.
“He would sneak into my basement when he wasn’t meant to.
He would risk spending time with me, while I was transformed as an Omega.
I was still feral but I would be…” I have tried hard not to think about this.
But I am sure that without Mars, I would have died.
“I’m a feral, mute Omega. Without Mars, however, I’d be even more touch starved.
I’ve never been around another Omega and… ”
Bird’s eyes light with compassionate understanding. “Would you like to share a snuggle pile with me now? My favorite thing in the hotel was to snuggle with a whole load of other Omegas. It comforted us. We don’t need to do more than lie here together. I would love to meet that side of you.”
I scrutinize Bird for a moment, trying to gauge his honesty.
Nerves shoot through me.
Bird has only known me as an Alpha.
What if he looks at me differently?
He appears to catch my hesitancy because he slips his hand into my hair, stroking gently. “You’re you, whether your dynamic is Alpha or Omega. I love you just as you are, as a person and not a dynamic.”
I stare into his beautiful eyes. “Love?”
“Ehm, I did just say that, didn’t I? Can you pretend that you didn’t hear it?”
I shake my head.
Yet I can’t say it back. I don’t know what romantic love means.
Bird is mine. I would kill or die for him.
I can’t imagine existing without my scent match now that I have found him.
I like him more than any other Omega I have met.
But is that love?
How would I know?
Why do I need to label it? Why can’t I just say that he’s mine?
“You’re pack,” I say, firmly, because that explains my feelings best. “I’ve never shown Switch to anyone but my brother. Doesn’t that tell you everything without me using words?”
“If that’s what you need,” Bird replies, dropping his gaze.
New pheromones flood through me. My scent shifts to sweet caramel.
I throw my head back and howl, as my body transforms.
Slick slips down my thighs.
I shudder and collapse into Bird’s arms.
His eyes widen in awe, and he catches me. “You’re incredible. A miracle.”
I purr, nuzzling his neck.
Desperate for touch and sensation, I lick along his vanilla scented scent gland and rub myself against his body.
“Switch?” Bird asks, tentatively.
I chirp in answer, looking up at him through my eyelashes.
“Isn’t that just the most adorable sound?” Bird pets my hair, pulling me closer. “What do you need, sweetheart? Does that feel nice? You like it when I stroke your hair? I wish that I could build you a nest. Next time, okay?”
I chirp, eagerly.
Bird strokes down my scent gland, sending shivers down my spine.
I arch into his touch, and he massages my shoulders, before teasing his hand around to the base of my neck.
I sigh in delight.
My purr deepens.
“You’re like a cat who has finally decided that they want a cuddle.” Bird happily scratches the back of my neck. I lean into his touch, begging for more. “Switch, I love you, yeah?”
I wriggle with happiness.
Bird pulls me tighter against him, starting to purr as well.
I never knew that lying like this with another Omega, while our sweet scents mingle and our purrs blend like music, was what was missing in my life.
For the first time, I feel at peace.
I didn’t know that it was possible.
Is this happiness?
I allow myself to drift into a lazy sleep in the arms of the man who I…
Do I love him?
Suddenly, a loud clanking on the bars startles me awake.
My eyes snap open.
Why did I allow myself to relax?
Bird’s purring breaks off. He growls and struggles to sit up protectively in front of me.
I snarl, yanking him down. I throw myself in front of him.
Switch or Rogue, I am still the badass here.
I cringe, however, at the curdled milk scent from the Alpha at the doorway.
The warden.
“Fascinating.” Dr. Gill peers through the bars at Bird and me, before swinging open the cell door.
She is dressed in her crisp white scientist coat, clutching a clipboard.
She appears excited at the discovery of me in my Omega form.
“Seventy hasn’t transformed since entering the facility.
I wonder what triggered it? Her heats are irregular, but I don’t believe that one is due yet. ”
“Don’t.” Bird pushes himself up onto his knees. Tears gleam in his eyes. “Take me instead. You’ve already experimented on Ro twice this week. No one is burning her again. Why not test that fucking poison on me?”
What the fuck is he doing?
I chirp at Bird in fury, pushing him further behind me.
My caramel scent becomes burned in my distress.
I stand, crouching over him.
No one is taking Bird.
When the warden follows the scientist Beta with his hands in the pockets of his crumpled suit, pausing in the open doorway, I stiffen with fear.
I hate the way that his gaze settles on Bird…and my bond mark.
“We could take them both,” Dr. Gill suggests. “I could start an interesting comparative study on—”
“Sometimes, as someone whose entire career is based on being observant, you miss the important details.” Mr. Baskerville takes off his glasses, rubbing at his nose, before replacing them. “Look at Seventy-one’s neck. He’s the one who has been in heat.”
Bird slams his hand over his neck like he can protect both his mark and the privacy of our bonding.
By acting like our bonding is just one more thing for them to study, Mr. Baskerville is violating something precious and reducing it to yet more numbers on a chart.
I ball my fists.
I’m not a number.
“Her family said that she can’t talk in this dynamic.” Dr. Gill scribbles a note on her clipboard. “It appears to be true that she’s a feral Omega. I would like to test whether I am able to make her talk by applying different stressors.”
Mr. Baskerville tuts. “And now you’re missing the important observation.
Rogue Switches are forbidden from bonding for a reason.
She has bred Swenty-one. They’re both doubly polluted and foul.
” Adrenaline spikes through me, when he casually reaches to rest his finger on the switch.
“Step out of the cell, Op, unless you want to be shocked to death. Unfortunately, these experiments didn’t work out. It’s time to put them down.”